


Beneath the Rust

by Alma_Arc



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Dark, Drug Use, F/M, Hope, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Control, POV Cloud, POV First Person, Paranoia, Protectiveness, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alma_Arc/pseuds/Alma_Arc
Summary: This is the life he chose. It would always eat away at him, but at least it was the truth. As the head of a vast network of assassins for hire, Cloud must now navigate the fallout of his rise to notoriety, crossing old friends and making new enemies.





	1. The dead man in the basement

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "Like Metal in Water", originally posted at FFnet, in which Cloud finds himself working as a contract killer in Junon after his relationship with Tifa collapses. But love and death are never simple to reconcile, and once their story concludes there, Cloud's story picks up again here... in the aftermath...

I’m not even really sure where to begin. When I think back on it now, there were so many points in time that led up to our final reunion, so many key decisions that I’d unwittingly made to bring me closer to you, and backtracking to where it all started seems an impossible task. But if I were to really pick somewhere to start, if I went back far enough, it would have to be Wutai.

Yes, Wutai was, actually, the inception of many things. 

I remember the day before I left for Wutai quite clearly, which is unusual because most of my time was spent beneath the serene haze of mako. No, I’m not an addict anymore, but a light daily dosage helps eliminate certain thoughts and it was easy to slip back into the routine once I came back to Junon. But I remember that day because it was a calm, quiet afternoon. One of the few truly sunny days in Junon with a bright blue sky over the ocean. The entire region was subject to storms in Meteor’s wake, along with any other coastal cities, so a day like that was hard to forget. 

The way my schedule had worked out, between contract assignments and meeting with mako distributors, I found myself with some free time so I opted to spend it at the cafe. It was the same place I used to meet my old boss, where you once begged me not to go, where he nearly tortured me to death in the back kitchen, breaking me to his wishes because he knew I had a weakness for two things, one of them being mako at the time. 

Now he’s dead. I took a sip of hot coffee. He’s dead and I sit comfortably, no longer weak to anything. Not to mako. Not to you. The ocean slapped against the tiers below, and a few swaths of transparent clouds moved in front of the sun. I was the last one standing, again.

“More coffee, sir?” the waitress inquired, standing near me with coffee pot in hand. She warily eyed the scar running down my face. No doubt she’d heard the stories. Practically everyone living in Junon had. 

“Sure.” I tried a smile at her, but she quickly topped off my mug then scurried away. 

The bell above the door to the cafe jingled, and an associate of mine entered. He wore all dark clothes and two long serrated daggers were sheathed at his waist. Not exactly a good daytime look, which meant he’d likely just come from an all-night job. The waitress and her compatriot behind the counter recognized him, too, and quickly averted their eyes, rushing instead to hand other guests their checks. 

He sat down next to me, nodded respectfully. “Boss.”

I didn’t mind the intrusion on my silence. Normally, I sat in the cafe not only for the views but to be available to whoever wants to speak with me—sometimes it was a customer requiring a contract, which I only made face-to-face, and sometimes it was an associate or a dealer. Since this place had been my old boss’s unofficial meeting place, it made sense to continue the tradition.

“What is it?” I replied without looking over. 

“The associate from Wutai,” he breathed the words softly, “He’s been found.”

This was good news. There’d been a breach on a contract. Specifically, an associate who accepted the contract killing of a woman in Wutai disappeared after failing to complete the job. When another associate was sent to investigate, the first one murdered him in an especially gruesome way. It was totally bizarre considering he’d willingly accepted the contract in the first place, and to kill a fellow assassin in our organization meant, unequivocally, death. It was one of the very few rules I insisted on.

“Have him ready in the lower tier within the hour,” I replied. 

The associate bowed his head and stood. He hadn't changed much in the time I knew him. Still quick to follow orders, never risking my wrath. The bell above the door jingled again as he left to prepare the execution. He was the same associate who’d been there the night of your death, trembling as he returned to the room full of corpses, holding that single green materia in his palm. Yes, the same materia I kept on me now. One little unblemished orb. A Restore, meant for you, but of course it arrived too late. I don’t know why it still felt important to hold onto, as if a piece of you were still attached to it, in that final slipping-away moment. There was a different lifetime branching off, the possibility of so much more, and sometimes I felt that world bubbling all around me, just beneath the surface of this one.

Dax. That was his name, I remembered after he’d gone. I took another mako pill. You were starting to cloud my head again. 

“Excuse me…” 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but an older woman stood next to my table. The sun was lower in the sky, edging towards sunset. 

She was a customer, I could tell. That sad weary look in her face meant she wanted to have someone killed, and she knew to come to me to get it done. Sanction of murder via contract through an organization of assassins was the preferred way to get one’s dirty work done. My associates were trained, careful, and hardly failed even against the most highly trained and even military targets, as long as the price was right. It was a useful business that flourished in the aftermath of ShinRa’s collapse and Midgar’s destruction, right alongside the mako trade. 

“Are you…? I’m looking to… Well, that is, I need something done. A job.” Her eyes met mine. A heavy request that didn’t need to be spoken. 

“I understand,” I replied, inviting her to sit, “Tell me what you need.”

The conversation was brief. She need a man killed, someone who worked in Edge. The reason why was not relevant, and I didn’t ask. I named the price, and she slid an envelope with the money and a photo of the target across the table to me. I deployed a series of brief questions to gain an understanding of where this man spent his time, what sort of training he’d had, if he was ever involved with ShinRa—the usual. After all was answered, she left fast. I put the envelope away and sipped my coffee. The sky was starting to become dark, and pink and red along the horizon.

It was time to visit the associate from Wutai. I gathered my belongings, left some gil on the table, and exited the cafe. Outside the air in Junon was hot, humid, even as the sun was setting. The salty sea breeze blew in through gaps in the buildings along the tier, and the diminishing sunlight bathed half the street in a warm golden glow. The upper tier was a boisterous place of shopping, restaurants, tourists, hotels, and the airship landing dock. It was crowded at nearly all times of the day.

In strict opposition stood the lower tier. It had fallen into slum status not too long ago as the wealthy upper tier expanded, forcing many who lived in its outskirts to relocate to the lower tier as prices went up. It was the place where junkies and people of ill-repute lived, so it was known. I personally had no connection to the lower tier and hardly went there for anything but work, though I knew associates like Dax would frequent establishments in the area. 

For me, coming here meant only one thing. An execution. 

In the middle of a nameless block, nestled within the depths of the lower tier, an abandoned tenement loomed. I entered and descended to the basement, where I knew my target would be waiting. 

Sure enough, in the center of the sunken concrete space, bloodied and slumped over in the shaft of dying light from a tiny square window near the ceiling, was the offender. Dax and another associate, likely the one who’d found this guy in Wutai and brought him back to Junon, stood nearby. Dax had his daggers out, but quickly wiped them clean and sheathed them when he saw me enter. Both associates bowed to me. 

The man in the center painstakingly lifted his head. His face was swollen and bruised, and his breath was ragged gasps. 

“B-Boss…” he croaked, then let out an exhausted sigh “I… I knew it would be you… But it doesn’t matter if you kill me…”

Dax made a move to silence the man but I held one hand up, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I’m...a dead man anyways… If I go back to Wutai…” The man sputtered a few words incoherently then coughed and spoke again, “Godo Kisaragi is building an army… and you can’t stop him.” He smiled up at me, a mouth full of blood.

“An army?” Dax echoed quietly. 

The man on the floor began laughing, a sickly choking sound. “You’re...finished,” he said to me, “It’s over for you and your kind.”

Dax lunged forward and kicked the man in the face, sending him flailing backwards with a painful scream. Gashes in his stomach, likely made earlier by the twin daggers Dax carried, leaked profusely in a gush of fresh dark blood. He lay unmoving on his side where he fell, coughing and moaning. Though obviously still angered by the words spoken to me, Dax made no further motions. 

I unsheathed my weapon. The man tried to roll over to face me, but he couldn’t.

“Y...y...you and...every—”

I cut his words short by slashing across his chest, dismembering the arms curled there. He shrieked and mangled fingers fell to the floor. I wasn’t going to entertain any further threats.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” I began mildly. He curled and writhed as I spoke. “And I wish I didn’t need to get involved here. I rarely get directly involved like this, you see.”

I needed him to understand that there was only one reason why he’d earned this type of death. Whatever nonsense he was spouting about Godo rebuilding an army was not something I cared to pursue in conversation. This task, this place, was for one purpose only.

I continued, speaking loudly through his whimpering, “But If I didn’t kill you there’d be no order. There’d be no reason for anyone to follow any rules. We can’t have that.”

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. It looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Sweat covered his face. He wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Can’t be entirely without merit,” I concluded softly, “We need to maintain structure. All of us do.”

That was the end of it. My sword slit his throat, and he died swiftly in a growing puddle of blood. I breathed out, taking in the loss of life in front of me. The sensation of killing another still brought me a sort of happiness that’s hard to describe. Nevertheless, it was gone in moments. 

“What a waste,” I said after it was done.

“A waste of your time, sir. I understand,” Dax responded.

“Forget it,” I said, “Just tell Wutai it’s been handled.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Wutai branch of our organization, which also incorporated the mako suppliers and distributors in that region, had been extremely upset after learning one of their own had betrayed our code and murdered another. They’d be glad to hear the problem was resolved. 

But the dead man’s words bothered me. I didn’t like the idea of Godo Kisaragi’s name coming up at all, especially in the context of him remilitarizing Wutai. If it interfered with our work, whether mako or contracts, then it had to be stopped before that, too, became a problem. 

Though not exactly outlawed, mako had become a bit of a notorious drug since disseminating through society at basically every level. Its pill and powder forms were easy to obtain and use, provided that one had enough gil to make the purchase, but its addictive properties were sometimes associated with violence and crime. The most desperate people were mako junkies. While I don’t enjoy being part of a network that contributes to the issue, I do understand the need for some semblance of serenity, even if artificially induced. 

Something the dead man had said made me think the rise of a Wutain military could be in response to the mako trade. ‘Your kind’, he’d told me. Mako addicts were easy to spot because of the luminescence in their eyes. The drugs caused a temporary dim glow, like that of real Mako saturation, which is how the tiny green pills earned the nickname “mako”. 

Unfortunately, this side effect meant my eyes were identical to those of an active user. Could explain the confusion of ‘you and your kind’ that he’d said. 

I didn’t like it. I resolved to head out to Wutai that night and meet with our supplier, someone who was trustworthy and who likely had been tracking local activity and could fill me in on this Godo Kisaragi business. I arranged to meet with her after midnight, though I didn’t say the reason why. Only that I was checking in. It made my stomach turn, the thought of a long airship ride over, but I suddenly didn’t trust any other associate to handle this job. Godo’s name coming up just made me...hesitant. 

After the execution, I went back to my apartment to review the contract that dead man had been originally assigned. I wanted to figure out why he’d skipped out on the job like that. There was always an option to say no and refuse the work so the events didn’t make sense. 

A thunderstorm was beginning to accumulate on the horizon of the darkened sky. It was past sunset but not quite night yet, so I had a few hours to kill before the last airship out. My apartment was on the edge of the upper tier, in a top floor facing the ocean. It was just starting to drizzle by the time I reached the entry, and once inside—the only tenant on the top floor—I was able to sit quietly on the couch facing the oversized windows and watch the rest of the black clouds roll in. 

The patter of rain against the windows overpowered the sounds of the waves crashing against the metal tiers far below, and I held the dead man’s contract in my hands. Nothing about it seemed outright unusual, but the woman in the photo was very pretty. Long dark hair, dark eyes, a light tank top. In the picture she was looking over her shoulder and smiling. I went over the details of the kill. She lived in Wutai, worked at the palace as a cook, no weapons training known besides basic hand-to-hand. The customer was also from Wutai. They’d disappeared too. 

Suddenly I began to feel sick. Something about the whole day didn’t feel right. I downed another mako pill. Thunder rumbled outside. Some days it was harder to forget you than others. The situation with the woman and the traitorous associate reminded me of us, and though I’ll never truly forget you, nor would I really want to, it was always unpleasant when you swam up through the constructed haze around me. 

And sometimes, just sometimes, when this happened, I got the feeling you were in the room with me. I had dreams about you all the time, where you’re right behind me but I can never turn fast enough. No matter what happens, I can never see you. Even though the stench of saltwater decay hangs rancid in the air and I know you are near me, I’m always too late. Too late...to… I took one more pill, forcing my thoughts to rest. 

I...I needed to think, to focus on the task at hand. Yes, going to Wutai. The dead man’s contract was just a piece of the puzzle. Verifying his words was the correct way to go. 

I exhaled and waited for the heaviest part of the storm to pass, standing near the windows. The ocean was a black twisting thing in the flashes of purplish lightning. At last the mako kicked in, bringing its usual veil of calmness, and the rain lightened up. 

It wasn’t until I got downstairs and headed outside that I realized I was holding your materia in my hand, nervously playing with the tiny orb between my fingers.


	2. Scales of Leviathan

Wutai is a terrible place for someone in my line of work to be. The region used to be controlled by a local crime lord who carefully managed mako distribution through a very tight network of suppliers. The purest strains could only be found through Wutai, so my old boss had an idea that he would strong-arm the region into submission. 

This is where I spent those six months apart from you. Here, in this terrible place, cutting throats and twisting limbs to the threshold of breaking, sick under layers of mako-induced numbness. Looking back, it all feels like a bad dream. But the tactics worked and this place soon fell. The local boss couldn’t stand the proverbial and literal pressure of steel on his throat, and once he was taken care of the others quickly fell in line. Although I developed a somewhat exaggerated reputation, my work was complete. I went home to Junon, hoping to never return. Mostly because it reminded me of you. I felt so sick back then. 

But this place, now, felt like a ghost town more than anything. I ignored the stir of memories and choked back the rising nausea of motion sickness from the ride over and stood on the cobblestone bricks with two other assassins, one on either side of me. It was a cautionary gesture, more than anything. I didn’t really expect any trouble, this town had long given up on that, but the recent news concerning Godo Kisaragi and his potential re-militarization made me a bit...nervous. 

I wasn’t afraid of him or the WRO or whatever physical resistance could be found here. I just couldn’t quite place the apprehensiveness I’d felt since his name had first been mentioned. It had something to do with Yuffie, I was sure of it. Seeing her again… after all this time, after you and I… it just didn’t seem like that could ever be a good idea. 

Regardless, I had a task to complete. Assessing the threat of Godo’s military was my only reason for coming to the town, so that’s what I would do. 

But the empty winding streets were dark and quiet. It seemed unusual to me, though truthfully it had been a while since I’d been in Wutai, so it was possible this wasn’t a recent change. The other passengers from the airship we’d taken in had disembarked fast and disappeared into the winding paths ahead. Several of them glared at me, then quickly looked away once I caught their gaze. Yes, it had been far too long since I’d been to Wutai. After I’d done my work here long ago, the residual taste of another defeat stayed sour in the hearts of the residents. Nobody from my line of work was welcome here, in that sense. Occasional retaliation killings for completed contracts had crept up from time to time, though it was nothing I’d felt demanded my attention since it hadn’t interfered with the trade otherwise.

As we made our way towards the supplier’s meeting place, I noticed we were nearing the part of town where my old apartment was. I say “old” but really, it was more like “current yet unused”. My boss had bought out the building and gave me one small space within, indefinitely. Of course, with his death there was no more upkeep or maintenance being done to the place. But… 

“Go on ahead,” I said quietly to the others, “I need to take care of something first. I’ll meet up with the supplier soon.”

No protests. Just silent bows. Then the two were off down the next block. 

I approached the abandoned building. The keypad lock was still online, which surprised me at first until I noticed another light on in the third floor apartment. Someone was still living here and footing the electric bill, apparently. My combination worked and the door clicked open, allowing me access into the small cruddy lobby. 

The steps were creaking and decayed. The paint on the walls was peeling and an egregious amount of paper mail was stacked by the entryway. I took a glance at the postmarked dates. They were all well over six months old. I had to pull the door shut behind me to get it to close and relock. Then I ascended to the top floor. The electronic lock was still engaged on my door, and after just a moment’s hesitation, I typed in the key and entered. 

The apartment was exactly as I’d left it, though the air was dry and dusty. Everything inside was untouched, and even though it was my own apartment, I somehow felt like I was trespassing in someone else’s place. In some ways, it was true. I had been a very different person back then. Or at least, I’d been in a very different state of mind, drowning in work and mako. 

I stepped inside and slowly let the door click behind me, examining what I’d left behind. There was a few old papers on the kitchen table (completed contracts and some scribbled times denoting various targets’ daily routines), and the bed was left unmade. A pile of crumpled sheets and a pillow thrown on the floor. What a mess. 

Then I saw it. Through the slivers of yellowish street light cresting through the half-broken blinds, I saw that small shiny object on the nightstand. I’d completely forgotten about it, and all at once I realized this was exactly the reason I’d been compelled to come back here. To get this. To retrieve this tiny piece of you. My only thing left, aside from the materia in my pocket. 

Giddy with an appreciation that I couldn’t quite place, I walked over to the nightstand and picked up the ring. It was still on its long silver chain. I dusted it off and traced the curve of the engraved wolf with my thumb. It was your ring. The one I’d given to you a very long time ago. The same one you’d later given me back (or perhaps I took it back? I can’t quite remember). None of that mattered. Only that I saved it and kept it with me, here in Wutai, in the hopes of one day returning it to you. Maybe you’d reconcile with me in Junon, I remember thinking. Maybe one day I’d go back to Edge. 

Ha. I’d truly been a different person back then. 

I pocketed the precious object, then scoped out the apartment for anything else of interest. There was nothing else there, but I stayed for just a while longer though I couldn’t say why. The quietness of the building made every creak and groan of the old walls seem exaggerated, and the footsteps of the sole tenant two flights down were easily detectable through the floor. 

Then I got a hold of myself and left. It was stupid to spend so much time there, caught up in thoughts of you. I checked the time on my phone and realized I’d be late to the supplier. Not that it was a big deal, but as I’d said earlier, the townspeople were not exactly hospitable towards people like me so I endeavoured to keep any relationships as smooth as possible. To avoid bloodshed. 

Outside, the night air was becoming humid. It felt thick and choking compared to the undisturbed stale apartment. High above, the moon shone brightly between a gap in the passing clouds, affording me some natural light as I made my way through alleys along half-repaired avenues. I wrapped the silver chain around my belt and made sure the ring was securely in my pocket. There was no way I’d risk losing this thing now. 

The supplier had requested to meet in a specific storage shed in the old part of town, near the palace. It was behind a grove of branching black trees that grew along the ancient bricks in this section that had been spared the post-Meteor ruin the rest of the town suffered. Without the benefits of having to be rebuilt, the shed lay in total disrepair. I approached slowly, taking each footstep lightly and listening intently for any sign of whatever was happening within the shabby wooden walls ahead.

Dead silence stretched around me, almost too much of it. I pulled up my mask, which hung around my neck like a bandana. It was a thin layer of dark cloth, not much for protection but I sometimes wore it during jobs to conceal my identity. I’d found that sometimes helped when approaching a target in an unknown space in case there were unwanted others in the room or, worse, if the target managed to escape. This wasn’t a contracted job, and the supplier would indeed already know me, but something about this whole night felt off, so I opted to play it safe. 

With my back against the side of the shack, I lifted the latch for the doorway—an ornate wrought iron handle twisted into the rough shape of a leviathan—and allowed the door to swing open. Inside there was no movement, and the stench of blood immediately singed my senses. I exhaled and peered inward. 

At the center of the shed, which ran much deeper into the adjacent building than I’d thought, hung a single naked bulb, illuminating the central area and nothing beyond. Inside the cone of dust-filled light was four bodies, two of which had been hacked into gruesome pieces and the other two which I recognized at once with a jolt of anger as my associates. The two men who had accompanied me, at my request, to this awful place, lay dead in a pool of blood. One of them was facedown with an oversized shuriken sunk deep in his back, likely punctured his heart judging by the position. The other associate was missing an arm, lay on his side reaching towards a fallen short sword just barely out of his reach. Nothing else in the space moved. 

I stood by the entryway for a second longer before deciding it would be best if I went in and shut the door instead of remaining in the street, gawking at the scene within. The intense smell of gore nearly made me gag, and I realized one of the mystery men whose body I had yet to identify had been disemboweled. His guts lay in a puddle near his feet, torn out by a serrated knife discarded nearby. 

The entire scene was a snapshot of an ambush. There was no trace of the supplier, or if she had been here, she’d long fled, and the clothes of the supposed assailants were reminiscent of military uniform. Both dead men wore all black and the sleeves of their jackets had a bold crest, a bright symbol of a leviathan. 

“Shit…” I breathed out. A leviathan. This had to be Godo’s new military. 

I noted two pistols amongst the chaos. They were, my heart sank slightly, WRO issue. Old weapons. I recognized them from years ago back when I was living in Edge, when I still saw Reeve and helped out his occasional military operation. 

Except something didn’t add up. I counted the weapons and nudged the other leviathan agent over with my toe to confirm that he was also deceased (and missing most of his face). There had to be another agent involved. Someone who had left the scene. But why not collect their own dead? And why leave my men out in the open like this? Unless it was specifically to send a message, or…

My senses sharpened and my focus shifted. Or the survivor of this little slaughter hadn’t left the scene. They were waiting in the shadows. Waiting for me perhaps. 

I kept absolutely still, feigning my continued interest on the dead men at my feet, but my body weight was grounding into my heels and my right arm was surreptitiously moving towards the hilt of the sword on my back. There was a creak behind me. The floorboard beneath me moved. Yes, there was someone right there, approaching from the darkness. Someone light and quick. 

Then the blade of their weapon caught the light just barely, and a shaft danced on the far wall in front of me. In that instant, I knew that they knew they’d been revealed. 

I spun around fast just as the other attacked. A huge shuriken spun past my head, slicing into the wooden support beam exactly behind where I’d been standing a microsecond earlier. My sword was already out and split apart into two blades, one in each hand, but the oversized weapon lodged in the wood caught my attention. A faded pink ribbon was tied at its center between the massive crossing blades, and my brain sent a halting signal to my muscles half a second too late. Almost instantly I realized who my attacker was, but it wasn’t enough. 

Suddenly, she was close. I’d rushed forward and cut both blades deep into the sides of her body. Lethal slashes. She’d fallen towards me in shock, maybe not expecting her throw to miss. Maybe not anticipating a retaliatory attack so soon. And our eyes met. I felt her weight on the steel. 

“Y...Yuffie?” I somehow managed. 

Blood gurgled up her mouth. She slid off the swords, falling to the floor with a heavy thud. She was wearing a layer of flexible black armor, also marked with the leviathan symbol, and thankfully between that and my slight pullback on the attack, the swords had not severed her spine. But she was bleeding profusely. 

I fell to the ground with her, letting the swords drop. 

“Yuffie!” Panic charged my chest. A smash of confusing emotions tumbled around my head, but all I could focus on was the amount of blood all over my hands. It should have been a killing blow. It was meant to be, and now… now… I fumbled in my pocket for the Restore. She was gasping, choking. Red oozed over her lips and down her throat. Normally watching someone die was a privilege, a unique experience of elation that I’d come to associate with paychecks and mako. But a burst of desire gripped me. I didn’t want her to die. 

The materia was slippery in my hands. I knew this was your materia, the one meant for you, and so what right did I have to try and utilize it now when you were dead and gone, but I didn’t know what else to do. A muscle memory had instinctively gone for the materia. Before I even knew what I was doing, I activated it. The tiny green orb glowed and the sickening sync of the Mako inside me beat like a pulse while the healing stream of light drew out, manipulated by my intentions. It swirled around her, engulfing her injuries and stymying the blood loss. Luckily, I’d managed to cast it quickly enough—I could see the threads of energy coating the deep gashes, healing up her wounds. 

Then it was over. The light extinguished in a final swirl around my arm, and Yuffie lay unconscious. It had been barely enough to save her life. 

I let out a breath. I’d been shaking, which was absurd since defending myself and often killing my attacker was something I’d done a hundred times before. Yet this time I’d almost made a mistake. I’d almost killed someone I once cared for. 

Standing up, I regained my senses, caught my breath, and wiped the blood from my swords. Yuffie’s breathing was shallow but regular. Then a new feeling arose. A physical sensation within my stomach, a deep hollowing pain, carved like a knife into my ribs. I stumbled back, finding one of the shed’s support beams behind me, and held onto it. A horrendous stabbing sensation suddenly shot through my veins and muscles, outward from my chest. It felt like needles in my bones, and I grit my teeth hard. My eyes fell on Yuffie’s weapon, still stuck in the beam near me, and I stared at the small pink ribbon, willing the pain inside me to stop. The small momento had frayed ends and had been tied tightly several times, as if the owner wanted to make absolutely sure it would never be lost. 

Lost… I coughed, feeling the pain now in my lungs reaching upwards. Was this...some sort of punishment? For using your materia? For accidentally turning on a friend? My mind was a wave of incoherence, wishing anything for the pain to stop. I fell to the dusty floor. My fists curled and I hugged my abdomen as if that would help. 

Suddenly, the sensation vanished. Without so much as dampening first, the entire episode cleared up. Cautiously, I stood back up. Sweat covered my face and my heartbeat raced, but otherwise I was fine. Had I imagined it? Had I placed such otherworldly importance on this materia that I...somehow caused this to happen? 

It didn’t feel real, standing there with Yuffie’s body at my feet and four other dead men. No, I had to think clearly. I forced my paranoia away and assessed the situation. I pulled her weapon from the wood and attached it to the back of my belt behind my sheath. 

The dead associates had to be taken care of. I would call the supplier, figure out why the hell she wasn’t here, and arrange for the local team to send a clean-up. Then I’d ask Dax in Junon to tell the associates’ next of kin about what had happened here. But the obvious question of what exactly had happened here remained unanswered. All I knew was Godo’s re-militarization efforts and my own notion that he was targeting mako suppliers seemed legit. And his daughter was involved… 

I couldn’t just leave her. She’d seen me. Despite the mask, she looked right into my eyes and there was no way she didn’t recognize me at that moment. No, I couldn’t leave her wondering about my involvement or, even worse, trying to seek me out. And I certainly couldn’t leave her free to attack any other mako suppliers or otherwise disrupt the trade. I toyed with the idea of taking her back to Junon, but if she awoke in transit, I’d need to keep her quiet. No doubt she’d be furious with me, no matter what. And I didn’t want to bring her to my apartment here in town. Going back there felt wrong somehow, as if that old part of my life would seep into me and grab hold and I’d end up doing something terrible.

Yet we couldn’t stay here, that much was clear. I sighed. 

If only she’d wake up, we could figure it out together. Unless she didn’t want to… Unless everything I’d heard and seen meant we were, in fact, on opposite sides of an issue evidently worth killing for. A terrible slow realization dawned on me. And if that were the case, I’d need to interrogate her to get answers. She might not talk willingly. I suddenly felt sick again. 

No, I pushed the idea away. Not yet. We weren’t there yet. I had so little information it was silly to make such assumptions. The mako trade was full of money and power, yes, but there’d never been any organized governmental response before, so why would the WRO or Godo care now?

Unless the former rulers of drug trafficking here had been clandestinely connected to Godo and had been siphoning wealth slowly back into the old seat of power in the palace. And if the rise of violence associated with my boss’s hostile takeover of the region were dressed-up as a symptom of rampant mako addiction, that could attract the WRO’s attention and perhaps even give them reason to remilitarize Wutai. 

Stop, stop, stop, I silently told myself. Sometimes my mind just races and its impossible to calm down. Well, not without help. I turned away from Yuffie and swallowed a mako pill. All I really knew, I reminded myself with an exhale, was that Yuffie attacked me and I just needed answers. No need to overcomplicate things. 

I knelt next to her, hesitantly, but she didn’t stir. The blood-soaked sides of her torn uniform were still wet and glistening darkly in the dim light, and beneath the sliced fabric, glimpses of white flesh were visible. 

“...Yuffie,” I said and gently nudged her shoulder. I repeated her name several times. No effect. 

I suddenly worried that the materia hadn’t worked, that my reaction to it had been indicative of something gone awry in the usual process. I paced the room, downed another mako pill, and waited a bit longer. I was going to try the materia again, but just holding the damn thing made me start to feel queasy. 

“Please, Yuffie,” I sighed, “Please just wake up.” I didn’t know what else to do. 

Suddenly, the door opened behind me. I spun around, prepared to slice apart whoever was barging in, but my guard was unnecessary. The supplier, the woman who I’d originally intended to meet with, entered accompanied by two associates, both of whom I recognized as part of the local group. She’d likely paid them off in mako tonight to accompany her as associates do not normally double as bodyguards. 

“Boss!” The supplier exclaimed once she spotted me. “Are you alright? What… what happened here?” Her deep violet eyes scanned the room. The shine of mako was visible, as I’d expected. 

She was a tall, thin woman, older than me. Fierce and toughened through years of working alongside my old boss, one of the first associates. After his death, she naturally reported to me though she’d at that point transitioned from contract killings to mako distribution. Once Wutai was established as the primary source of mako, she made her home here, handling all supply lines. There was nobody better suited in the world for this job, and nobody I trusted more to do it. 

Except tonight, she was late.

“What happened?” she repeated, cautiously peering at the bloody mess of bodies, then she looked behind me and gasped, “That’s Yuffie Kisaragi! What is she doing here? Did she attack you?”

“Yes,” I confirmed without even thinking, “She’s...wearing this uniform with the leviathan on it. Much like the other two who attacked my associates. Do you know who they are?”

The supplier exhaled loudly. “Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping this wouldn’t interfere, but…”

Yuffie began to moan. I knelt down, putting one arm over her to gently shift her weight towards me, then I realized how I must’ve looked doing such a thing and stood back up, clearing my throat. I certainly couldn’t have anyone know that I knew Yuffie, that we were more than just acquaintances. And if she woke up now and saw me, I wouldn’t be able to control her response. Not in front of the others. 

And, my clear-headed logic determined, she was an important figure to be interrogated. I had to put aside whatever she might have been in the past to me and treat her how I would anyone else in this situation. 

“She needs to be questioned,” I told the supplier, facing away from Yuffie, “Is there a place safe we can take her?” 

The supplier thought for a moment, watching Yuffie, who was still not fully conscious. “Hmm, yes, there is. Let me take her to one of our old warehouses on the south side of town. Unless more of Godo’s troops are out prowling the street, we should have no problem moving her.”

“So they are Godo’s military.” I had figured as much, but now that I had confirmation it made me strangely dissatisfied. 

“Mmhm.” The supplier was studying the other corpses. “I’ll arrange for a clean-up here, but we need to move her now. She’s waking up. I’ve heard she’s quite dangerous.”

I almost laughed. Yuffie being described as dangerous sounded so monstrously out of place, though it had been some time since I last saw her. And clearly things had changed in Wutai, and likely at the WRO as well. Perhaps she was...dangerous now.

“I have her weapon,” I said as one of the associates approached Yuffie. Unarmed and unconscious she was doubly no threat. He hoisted her over his shoulder. I leaned close as he passed me and said, “She’s mine to interrogate. Do not let her die.”

“Yes, boss…” A scarce whisper of a reply. 

I wanted to follow them out. I wanted to go with Yuffie and make sure she was okay, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate. I somehow felt that the best way to protect her would be to keep my distance. The supplier was on her phone, speaking soft and fast to someone, while the two associates disappeared with Yuffie. I struggled with whether or not I’d done the right thing by waiting alongside her at the scene of the ambush for so long. Maybe I should’ve brought her back to my apartment, and avoided this whole mess right away. I could’ve kept her involvement a secret. 

The supplier finished her call and stood behind me, hands on her hips. She sighed. 

“It’s just you and me again. Cleaning up Wutai,” she said, unbothered by any of it.

I wanted to respond, but I felt empty. It was hard to find a reason to agree with her sentiment, which had a vague touch of nostalgia to it. Yes, all this time had passed and yet her and I were just the same. It was Yuffie who was different, after all. But my two worlds were overlapping once again, just as it did when you were alive, and it filled me with a subtle form of dread. 

No matter. Dealing with an element so close to you was inevitable, and there was no sense in being apprehensive. I’d deal with Yuffie as I’d dealt with countless others who threatened my livelihood. Our pasts meant nothing, and I could prove it.


	3. Silent mask

I made them hold Yuffie overnight, mainly because I didn’t think acting right away in response to our loss was a good idea but also because I wanted some time to think. There was no way to avoid her, having an associate interrogate her in my stead meant I couldn’t control exactly what was done to her, and furthermore she’d already seen me, been scarcely a few breaths from me with my swords in her flesh, there was no way this would be the last of her. So I might as well approach the problem head-on and get it over with. 

Upon spending several waking hours in my apartment, analyzing the details of the evening and preparing myself mentally for the coming day, I got no sleep whatsoever and gave up around dawn, then headed out to the south side of town where Yuffie was being kept. The morning was calm and dreary in the slowly waking pace of the streets. Unlike Edge or Junon, Wutai was never in a rush. I grabbed coffee on my way, noting the pleasant sweet flavor that I had missed, then swallowed a couple pills and focused on my next steps. 

Yuffie was an essential part in understanding the motives behind the ambush and her father’s intentions with his rising military power. 

The supplier had filled me in with what was already known, unfortunately very little. The troops in the dark armor embossed with a leviathan symbol were, in fact, Godo’s new military. They’d been stalking the Wutai streets nightly, increasing in numbers over the past three weeks, picking up junkies and scaring off dealers. Armed with WRO weapons, the silent militants imposed a strict law, all of which seemed centered around the mako trade. None of the leviathan agents had directly interfered with the supplier or her distributors, until last night. 

But there were no militants to be found in the daylight. The leviathan symbol wasn’t on anyone’s clothing at all. I thought about asking around, but that would’ve been too conspicuous. If they were in plainclothes or simply held different jobs during the day, I didn’t want to be caught unawares. 

Soon, I knew, I’d have answers. 

The warehouses on the southern part of town were all built around the same time in long identical rows where shipping containers could easily be loaded and unloaded. This early there were quite a few workers out, moving products, packing trucks, getting ready for the day. Nobody paid me any mind as I slipped through the crowds. My presence was none of their business, and I gave them no reasons to inquire.

I found the two associates outside smoking near one particular inconsequential structure. Without their weapons, which I suspected were safely stowed inside, they looked like regular employees simply enjoying a smoke break. Once they saw me, they nodded and one of them stamped out his cigarette then ushered me inside. The heavy metal door of the low but sturdy building was soundproof for the most part, as I discovered once it shut behind me, and inside was an immediately smaller room with a table, strands of lighting overhead, and a slop sink. There was another door leading further within, and this appeared to be a sort of reception area. 

“Is she alive?” I asked, careful to keep my voice casual. 

“Oh yes, boss,” the associate said with a smile, “She woke up shortly after we parted ways last night. But we kept her company for a while.”

I surveyed the rest of the space. The associates’ weapons were against the far wall. A sheathed long sword and a curved open blade hung from a hook. Droplets of blood had gathered in the dirt beneath it, falling from the edge of its thin steel.

“Is she hurt?”

“Only enough to keep her restrained,” he conceded after a slight hesitation, “But she is, as you’ve said, all yours.”

He bowed deeply and motioned towards the backroom. I finished the rest of my coffee and placed the empty paper cup on the table. The room was so sparse and quiet that my action seemed overly significant.

“Go home and get some rest,” I told him, “The both of you. I will tell the supplier when I’m done here.”

The associate’s eyes rose to mine. He looked uncertain. “But, sir, the supplier has paid us to—”

“I don’t care what she’s done,” I snapped, not in any mood for disobedience, “Get out of here now. You’ve done your part, and it won’t go unpaid.”

He blinked at me then lowered his gaze once more. “Yes, boss.” 

Quietly, he retrieved both weapons from the corner then exited the warehouse. I breathed out, centering my thoughts on the end goal that I would need to achieve, perhaps forcibly, then I put my hand on the doorknob to the inner room. The mako was coursing properly through me, at just the right amount, so I was at a good position to proceed. 

I opened the door and paused. Yuffie sat bound to a chair beneath harsh industrial lighting. The long metal walls were unpainted, scoured from repetitive movements of freight, and extended quite some ways beyond her, terminating at a pair of tall bolted doors. No doubt that led to the loading dock on the rear side of the building, and I realized how artfully cruel it was to face her chair in that direction. Her entire body was angled away from the door, and she was slumped over, dark hair a mess concealing her face. But her shoulders were rising and falling slightly—she was alive. A swirl of relief trailed through my stomach. Then I saw the blood beneath her. 

It wasn’t a lot of blood, but it was seeping from her hands and down her chest from either a face or neck wound. The skin of her wrists were raw beneath layers of thick mythril rope. I felt bad for her, being treated like any other common threat. Except that’s exactly what she was, I reminded myself. A threat.

“Come...back...for more?” Yuffie’s strange wavering voice rose faintly. She’d heard me enter. But she didn’t know it was...me yet. “You junkie thugs…” She spat a wad of blood to her left, still unable to turn and see me. “You...will be...sorry.”

I took a step forward. 

“You better tell your boss…” she went on, taking deep halting breaths, “Tell him I know…”

I walked slowly, deliberately. 

“I’ve survived worse,” Yuffie said louder, finding strength or panic, “This...This torture is nothing!”

I stopped directly behind her. She’d lifted her head, and I could see there was a wound hidden in her mass of hair that bled steadily down one side of her face, though to my surprise she did not attempt to look back at me. She merely gazed straight ahead, jaw clenched, sweat covering her skin. My eyes trailed to the slices my swords had made in the sides of her armor. 

“It wasn’t torture,” I spoke finally, low and soft. 

At the sound of my voice, she gasped and struggled to turn. I spared her the effort and walked forward, revealing myself to her line of sight. Eyes wide, mouth open, her expression was a silent mask of utter surprise. It was the only time I’d ever seen her speechless. 

“If it was torture,” I informed her, “you’d be dead by now.”

She stared unblinking at me, then she snapped out of her shock. 

“That was you!” she shouted excitedly, “That was really you. I thought I’d...dreamt it or something. You... “ she frowned, remembering, “You stabbed me! You are...you are with these guys?”

“Yuffie…” 

“I didn’t see your face. I didn’t recognize your sword until it was too late. Why are you with these people? What are you doing here?” Her enthusiasm trailed into disgust, and she paused to catch her breath, eyeing me with uncertainty. “What...happened?”

The authentic sadness and utter confusion in her tone disarmed me temporarily. I had gone in with my mind clear and certain about how to proceed, but instead I was met with a surprised sympathetic woman. I crossed my arms.

“Why did your father’s agents attack us?”

Her look instantly became defensive. “What? Us?”

“The men with the leviathan symbols on their sleeve, like yours.” I pointed towards her arm. “Did they follow my men and then attack once they were in the shed?”

“Why are you—”

“You were waiting in the shadows. Was that because you saw me enter or were you waiting specifically for someone like me?”

“Why is any of this—”

“Answer the questions, Yuffie.”

“This is crazy, even for you!” she shouted back then cringed and squeezed her eyes shut in pain, slumping over her abdomen. Her voice resumed its low, restrained tone, “I… I don’t understand what’s happened. I…” 

She trailed off, but I didn’t falter. 

“The militants,” I went back on-topic, “Why is your father rebuilding an army? Is he targeting the mako trade?”

She exhaled and opened her eyes, staring down at the floor. “The mako trade…” she repeated softly, “That’s what this is about…”

There was a natural pause as I waited for her to continue, but she only let out an awful low chuckle. 

“Answer my questions, Yuffie,” I demanded more firmly. 

She scoffed and shook her head. 

“Tell me how you are involved,” I kept pressing her, but she’d fallen into a bizarrely silent repose.

There wasn’t anything else I could do. It was like another person took over my body as I relaxed and allowed my mind to move onto the next logical step in the interrogation. I unsheathed the sword, held it swiftly up to her throat. She cried out in surprise.

“Tell me,” I said, pressing the edge into her, “or we both might regret what happens next.”

At that she began screaming. It was a horrible panicked sound, not just a desperation for her own life but an abhorrent rejection of mine. She was screaming at me just as much as she was screaming in response to my actions. A mournful yet angry noise. And suddenly I saw myself, as if I were standing several paces away, displaced from my body, holding my weapon against Yuffie’s throat, her tear-filled eyes furious and begging and pleading. And then her eyes went to mine. Not me standing there, but me—the observer. She looked straight at me, then her vision changed. She began to stare at something behind me. 

A cold fear flooded beneath my skin, and the smell of saltwater rose around me. Yuffie was still screaming, but it was a distant muffled sound, like I was underwater. Strands of dark hair curled in the air around my peripheral vision, the origin clearly coming from the point behind me where she had been looking. A terrible putrid scent entangled with the salt. Decay, I knew. My lungs began to freeze, choking. I felt it all around me, the cold twisting ocean waters, the current pulling at my legs, threatening to take me under. 

I knew it was you. I just wanted to see you one last time. I struggled to turn, but I couldn’t, and the dark hair crowded my vision. 

The screaming stopped. I awoke back into my body, holding the sword but it was no longer on Yuffie’s skin. I was facing away from her—I’d turned fully around, in fact—and the sword’s tip was now resting on the floor. I quickly collected myself. What the hell had just happened? It was you, it had to me. You’d come to me outside of dreams, yet I knew that was impossible. Maybe the ring? Had it...clouded my thoughts? I hadn’t slept at all. That could cause minor hallucinations. 

“C...Cloud?”

I turned at the sound of my name, though I’d been certain it was your voice, not hers. Yuffie sat exactly as I’d left her, helplessly bound with tears glistening in her eyes. Any proud or rebellious air about her was gone. A thread of blood leaked from a sliver in her neck. I’d cut her. I didn’t even remember doing it. 

I took a step back, steadying myself, then sheathed the weapon. It...wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“You need to come home,” she said, full of concern, “This isn’t you.”

It wasn’t much longer until I fully regained my senses. Within seconds, I was back to normal. The scar down the side of my face was aching like a fresh wound, which it sometimes did from time to time and was no cause for alarm. 

But I couldn’t harm her. I couldn’t question her, and there would be no way to continue. 

“The WRO is re-arming Wutai,” I spoke quietly, “And you’re the bridge.”

Silently she nodded.

“The mako trade threatens Godo’s authority,” I guessed, “So he’s deemed it illegal or otherwise detains users.”

Again she nodded. I sighed. So that put us on opposing ends, as I’d suspected. Nausea crept into my belly. The abrasive buzzing of the lights above us hammered into my skull. 

“You should come back with me,” she said, “Leave this place. Leave whatever it is...you are doing here.”

No, I couldn’t coerce her cooperation, but I’d already learned all I needed to know. At this point, I should’ve killed her, but I couldn’t stomach the prospect. Instead, I cut her free of the bonds and left her in a shaky pile on the dirt floor. She rubbed her sore wrists and leaned against the siding of the warehouse, trailing blood. She didn’t speak again, but watched me intently while she caught her breath from the whole affair. 

I removed her weapon from my belt and placed it near the chair she’d been restrained to. Just as I was turning to leave, somewhat in shock that I was actually letting her go, I faced her one last time. 

“It was an accident,” I said, “Last night, after you attacked me… I healed you as fast as I could, but it wasn’t enough. You were already unconscious… I would never hurt you.” My strained apology was sounding more disjointed as I went on. It was always difficult to transform my thoughts into words. I sighed, frustrated and upset with the entire situation. 

Yuffie hadn’t moved from her ailing position, but her eyes instead rested on her weapon, gleaming between us. She didn’t make any acknowledgement that she’d heard me. It was no use. I hardened my resolve. 

“Don’t stay involved in this,” I warned, “I won’t be able to protect you again.”

Then I left. I went back through the front entrance of the warehouse and out into the full morning sun. The two associates were gone, and the alleyways were even more crowded than before. My meeting with Yuffie had been a failure, though I’d been able to secure at least a few key understandings. But… something else had happened in there that I couldn’t describe. It stayed with me the rest of the day. 

I spoke to the supplier, who’d wanted to deliver Godo’s daughter to him piece by piece in return for calling off the mako interference, and told her that it was the WRO backing Godo financially and that she should move as much production as she could to another town in the meantime. Of course, I didn’t mention the intricacies of my time with Yuffie nor that I was responsible for her being very much alive. 

When I went back to the warehouse later, Yuffie was naturally long gone. All that was left behind was a bloodstain and a handprint near the rear door. I stood in the empty silence, trying to figure out what had triggered that otherworldly feeling of you, but that was gone, too. 

I didn’t stay in Wutai any longer. The next airship to Junon departed that same afternoon, and I was eager to get home. There wasn’t any obvious shift in any communications or activities within my network, but something stayed with me from my time with Yuffie. It bothered me nonstop the rest of the day, and I knew, deep down, that everything had changed.


	4. Overdose

I was back in Junon by nightfall, and the city was trudging on as usual, entirely undisturbed by the events that had transpired in Wutai. The comforting aura of anonymity slipped over me once I rejoined the city's overcrowded populace, yet my mind would not relax. Godo's military would escalate and affect the mako trade. It was only a matter of time, especially if Yuffie was involved. And if the WRO was seriously using something as innocuous as mako to justify expansion of a global army, then we were all in much more trouble than we thought. It would be like ShinRa all over again, I knew it.

But the situation in Wutai had only proven something even more fatal - that my inability to properly handle the abrupt introduction of an element of my former life meant I was still attached to it. I truly didn't want a damn thing to happen to her, and that's what made everything fall out of my control. Just as my life in Junon had slowly consumed me, growing from the illusion of a choice into a critical part of me that had really always been there, so too did certain aspects of my past life fail to release me despite my best intentions, and it began to occur to me that I had been wrong. I'd been wrong about this version of me being all of who I am.

But none of that mattered. I had to keep my head straight. The reality was that I needed to protect the mako trade in Wutai, and that meant cleaning up the unintentional mess I'd made of what should have been a very straight-forward job. Yet Yuffie paralyzed me. Every time I thought of a plan, I'd remember she'd inevitably be there, and since I couldn't control her or protect her, I wanted nothing to do with her. This wasn't just some silly task where she'd tag along and make witty remarks. She was at the very center of the issue, and I couldn't reason a way out.

Nearly two days had passed, and I still hadn't thought of a decent way to tackle the problem or respond to the supplier. A few reports came in from Wutai through associates on jobs out there, and nothing catastrophic had occured yet, but my underlying anxiety did not quiet down. Had this been one or two years ago, I would've been largely disinterested in the whole affair, but now the majority of money came in through mako deals, not execution contracts, and so there was simply more to lose. People depended on me.

"You should relax, boss! Don't worry about that shit across the sea. It'll all blow over, right?"

Dax was shooting up across from me. We were sitting in a booth of a bar downtown. A skinny blonde girl sat on his lap, nibbling on his ear as he cleared the needle then set it aside for her. Another perk of the job, I suppose. No shortage of junkies looking for a hit in exchange for… well, anything.

I felt like everyone knew I'd fucked up by changing the plans and letting Yuffie live. Paranoia, to be sure, but this type wasn't dampened by mako. I was dosing pretty heavy, about four or five deep, and still the deluge of hard fixed reality was not softening away beneath the usual blanket of induced serenity. Maybe the drugs were no longer affecting me as much as they used to. Dax leaned back, letting out a laugh as the blonde kissed down his neck, and a pang of jealousy for his careless disposition stabbed through me.

"Do you think it would be okay if my friend joined us?" the woman spoke up, smiling like a child and wrapping her arms around Dax's neck. I wanted to throw up. The sheer unimportance of all of this in the face of what was happening across the ocean floored me. Since when had I become so utterly occupied? I used to have fun, or try to. I guess when I really thought about it, I'd never been able to relax like everyone else.

"Sure, baby, sure," Dax nodded, filling another needle.

A knock on the door of the booth made me jump, and a young woman with short black hair entered, all smiles. The friend, evidently. I must've lost track of time.

"Oh, wow, so you're him, huh?" The newcomer was sitting next to me, pawing one hand on my chest. "You really carry this thing everywhere, huh?" She was holding the silver ring, though it seemed impossible that she could be referring to that. I'd been playing with it in my hands, and I immediately tore it away from her.

"I need to go," I said to Dax. The room was suffocating, and I was losing stability.

"Wait, boss!"

I stepped out into the hallway, into a haze of smoke and inebriated patrons. The walls pulsed with the low steady beat of music and conversation, and I pushed my way back downstairs. A particularly bad storm outside had kept anyone from leaving and welcomed more soaked refugees by the minute. People in sopping wet raincoats stood anxiously next to partygoers in cocktail attire at the bar, eager to order a drink or a dose or both. The whole place roared with energy and laughter, and for the first time in a long time the atmosphere made me think of you. It was probably that damn ring, too. I put the chain back in my pocket and finally reached the front entryway.

Sheets of rain poured over the awning, and I breathed out, standing at the top of the steps with the spray of wind and water all around me. The air was fresh and cold, a nice contrast to the stifling interior, but I still wasn't feeling better. A crack of lightning lit up the expanse of the avenue in front of me, reflecting off a thousand puddles in the concrete, and an infinity of shadows spawned all at once in the snapshot. The city was full of them. Endlessly. A kaleidoscopic rush of sudden dread gripped me cold, and I rushed home, uncertain as to why I was slipping out again.

It happened occasionally, though normally this much mako would clear just about anything out of my head. Tonight it just wasn't doing the trick, though. The storm howled and heightened as I made my way towards my apartment building. That entire section of the upper tier, however, was dark, not even the streetlamps or traffic lights were on, and the few pedestrians unlucky enough to be caught in the rain with me paused in dismay as well. Power losses weren't too uncommon. Since Mako energy was no longer being heavily used, cities like Junon and Edge, I'd heard, were experiencing brownouts more frequently. The storms here only made it slightly worse.

The locks on the building were all electronic, so I had to use my manual key in the maintenance entrance on the side then hike up the stairs all the way to the top floor to reach my apartment. Within, the rain splashed loudly against the windows and the low grumble of thunder echoed beneath the clouds. I took another pill and sat on my sofa, watching the storm though it was nothing but gray. I wondered if Wutai ever had weather like this.

Eventually I dozed off to the sound of the rain, curled on the couch, trying to settle my mind. I dreamt almost immediately of Yuffie. She was dead, a cold empty husk. I'd arrived too late, and she hung lifelessly from a hook, bleeding all over the ground. A faded pink ribbon was tied around her arm. There was someone else in the room, standing directly behind me. I'd heard them approach with wet squishy footsteps, but I refused to turn around. I didn't want them to see how upset I was that it was Yuffie who'd been killed. Then the smell of rot and salt water rose around me, overpowering, and I knew who was standing there. Of course it was you. You'd always be there, after all, just out of sight. Somehow that terrified me more than Yuffie's corpse, but I turned around anyways. I had to face you. Maybe this was the night I'd finally catch you.

A crack of thunder woke me, and I jolted upright, adrenaline tensing my muscles. The room was dark, silent. The power was still out. I exhaled, unable to successfully calm my rapid heartbeat, and in the next flash of lightning, the room lit up in cold bright blue and there, on the wood floor directly behind the couch, was a trail of wet footprints.

I stared down in disbelief. The trail was coming from my bedroom and not the front door, and furthermore it was smaller than my own bootprints. They were bare feet, and the final pair terminated just within arm's reach of me. I stood up and backed away until the glass of the windows was at my heels. A shock of fright gave way to that strange weightless feeling, and I wondered if I was still dreaming.

Then I got a hold of myself and concluded someone must truly be here, broken in since none of the electronic locks downstairs were properly secured anyways. Sword in hand, I searched the two rooms that comprised my apartment, scouring every possible corner of concealment using the light from the remaining charge on my phone.

There was nothing. Nobody else was in the apartment. Even the front door was still manually locked from the inside. And when I went back to the couch, the footprints were gone.

My phone suddenly rang in my hand, and I jumped, completely consumed with the bizarre event that had just occurred. I ignored the phone, eyes fixed on the exact spot the wet steps had been, but the caller persisted. I looked down finally and saw it was Dax, but more alarmingly I noticed the time. It was four hours later. I'd somehow slept through much of the storm.

"What?" I answered.

"Hey boss. You alright? Sound a little..."

"What is it?"

There was a brief pause. "Found a guy here, down in the lower tiers, looking for you."

"So?"

"Well, remember how I told you I saw someone spying on us a few days ago?"

I really didn't, and I worried I'd been lapsing again. Maybe this was something that had happened before we left for Wutai. "Yeah..."

"It's the same guy. He's back in Junon, and this time I got him for you."

"Right. Okay."

Another short silence. Then Dax said, "Uh, you wanna interrogate him? Y'know, make an example and all that?"

"Tonight?"

"He was looking for you, boss. Maybe he's spying for the WRO."

"Sure. Yeah, the WRO…" I scrambled to wrap my head around it, "Fine. Bring him to the usual place on the lower tier. I'll be there soon."

Normally, I wouldn't care. I wouldn't get this involved, but if Dax was right about someone from the WRO snooping around our business, then this had to be handled promptly. Not only that, but an eerie sensation still clung like static to the air around me, and I'd didn't necessarily want to hang around my apartment any longer anyways.

The storm was settling down, no longer pelting the window nonstop, and I left the apartment. Just as I got outside, the power surged back on, and a row of street lights illuminated simultaneously, beckoning a path through the twisting rain, down towards the lower tier.

Yuffie was still in my head. I'd never contemplated seeing her again, let alone being on opposings side like this, and with the WRO involved, it felt even more strange than simply Yuffie alone. I'd been avoiding the WRO easily, since Reeve or whoever was in charge now mostly operated in Edge it seemed, and I hadn't been back to Edge since I took Denzel out of the bar after your death. But now the WRO was crawling around in Junon right on my doorstep and I couldn't look away.

Whoever this guy was, I'd have to kill him to send a message, especially since I'd failed to handle Yuffie properly in Wutai.

My destination, an abandoned tenement in the lower tier, appeared through the darkness ahead, partially lit by a stuttering lamppost. The rain completely stopped. I entered the building and headed up to the second floor where I knew Dax would be waiting.

My head was finally clearing from the fog of the last few days, and as I climbed the decaying carpeted stairs beneath the leaky ceiling, I decided that I already knew the best way out of my current dilemma. It had been the most obvious choice the whole time, and it was time I just accepted it and moved on. No more uncertainty or conflicts.

I'd simply kill Yuffie if she crossed my path again, and I'd kill her father too if he continued to interfere with mako production in Wutai. Simple as that.

"Hey boss."

Dax stood at the end of the hall, holding the unfortunate spy by the collar. The captive was barely standing, bloodied from a recent altercation, and a mass of dirty brown hair hung down over his face. There was no electricity in the building, but a row of windows facing the street allowed just enough light through from outside, and in the dingy yellowish glow from the streetlamps, there was something about the newcomer that troubled me. The shadows cast across him just...

"This is the spy, boss. The one I told you was watching us the other day."

He threw the person down at my feet as I approached, and the poor guy collapsed on the floor, motionless. I looked back at Dax, expecting an explanation for the captive's condition, but he merely grinned.

"We should interrogate him," Dax said eagerly. Then the person on the floor looked up.

And the world paused. Everything that I'd been actively dismissing over the past few days came soaring into the forefront of my mind hard and fast, and an awful sensation that somehow it was all connected surfaced instantly. It had to be connected. This was too big of a coincidence.

It was Denzel. The skinny, frightened boy that looked up at me under Dax's control was Denzel.

He was older slightly, and covered in mud and rain, and blood dribbled from a gash on his head, but it was him. I suddenly had trouble breathing. If I thought it was improbable Yuffie would ever come back into my life, I'd known it was impossible Denzel would. He'd left me. He'd specifically walked out with no intentions of reconciliation.

But there was something wrong with him. The deep shine of drugs was in his eyes, and he gazed up at me in petrification, as if he'd seen a ghost. No, this was just an accident. I could see in his eyes he'd never intended this to happen. Dax had done a number on his face. There was bruising and swelling and the kid could barely breathe. Was it possible he was actually working for the WRO? Spying or helping Yuffie out? It didn't seem...entirely crazy.

Dax was still grinning at me. He was expecting me to be happy about this. I didn't need to think about what to do for too long. This wasn't Yuffie and mako interference and a deal I'd made to keep our suppliers safe. This was a mixed-up kid in way over his head. The look on his face said it all.

"We don't hurt kids, Dax," I informed him, though he should've known that already. "Let him go."

"But, boss, this is the spy! Don't you wanna -"

"I said let him go."

Dax was not happy about this, but I truly had no choice. I was not about to bring Denzel into this world with me, and if he was dosing heavy, wandering around the lower tiers of Junon in the middle of the night, then I could probably bet that Dax had been wrong and that Denzel was not, in any way, a spy for the WRO. It just a strange coincidence.

As I turned and walked away, however, Denzel piped to life. "Wait...wait… Cloud…" a sad small voice croaked from his lips.

I kept going. The further away Denzel was from all of this, the better. He already knew what I was. No need for pretenses here.

Then there was a scuffle of commotion. Denzel was pulling away from Dax, calling out to me, "Cloud, wait! Please!" Then he fell into a soft cry, "Wait, please! Don't go!" And tears streaked down his face. They ran clear wet lines through the grime and blood on his cheeks, and my heart tightened. I had to stop. He sounded so terrified and desperate, and he needed my help.

"I'll handle this," I told Dax, "Leave him."

Dax smiled in relief then dropped the kid once more. Denzel fell with a thud, trying to hold eye contact with me. I motioned for Dax to go and he nodded then disappeared down the stairs. And I was alone with Denzel. The kid who'd walked out on me. The kid who'd said, more or less, that he never wanted to see me again. And I couldn't turn away.

I cut him free of the restraints, then held him up though it was soon clear he couldn't stand on his own. He leaned heavily against me, smiling weirdly up at me like he'd just heard great news, something he couldn't bear not to share.

"I found you," he said, eyelids fluttering, "I told Marlene I would…"

He was fading. Blood loss, most likely.

"Marlene?" I questioned, suddenly fearful, "Is she here, too?"

But he shook his head, slowly. Painfully. "No… No…" Then he smiled up at me again and let out a low chuckle. "I thought you might hurt me…"

Then he totally passed out. I caught him as he collapsed, and he curled up against me like a cut string. My heart sank. He said he thought I might hurt him. No matter what I'd become, and of course I knew how drastically things must've appeared to change from an outsider's perspective, I knew one single truth that remained in step with that piece of light in my pocket and that string of silver you used to wear — I would never ever allow anything to happen to Denzel.

Maybe he was a symbol of a life I'd tried to have and failed and so I felt obligated to protect him now, or maybe it was because I just couldn't stomach walking away from him when he looked like this. A junkie kid with his face a mess and his mind nonsense. He'd mentioned Marlene…

I carried him back to my apartment and rested him on the red sofa facing the windows. Of course, all trace of those wet footprints were gone, and the storm had long subsided. It was still the middle of the night, but I stayed awake, going through his backpack and trying to convince myself that Dax had been wrong.

The kid wasn't working with the WRO. It was impossible. All he had on him was a switchblade, less than fifteen gil, a near-empty bottle of water, and a cylinder with two mako pills, although after closer inspection I realized it wasn't the usual mako that I took. It was the hallucinogen commonly referred to as "lifestream". A nice safe little word that everyone knew. I guess people liked thinking they could visit their dead friends and relatives or whatnot.

Except Denzel had been on these… I looked over at him sleeping on the couch. Did he even really know that I had been standing there in front of him? He'd said my name but… Lifestream was notorious for affecting memory and sense of time. He'd likely be frightened when he woke up. I examined the deep gash on the side of his head. Not coagulating. In fact, he seemed to be running a fever. And his breaths kept changing pace like he was struggling to keep up.

None of it was good news. I held the restore materia in my hand, and before I could contemplate what had happened last time, the orb activated and the Mako within me reacted. It was nearly natural, a fluid jump from thought to action, and a string of green mist materialized, healing the bruising and bleeding.

Then, just as last time, the casting terminated with a fierce punch of nausea and hot scraping inside my rib cage. The pain was sudden, crippling. I actually fell to the floor, and the materia's hue danced in the light from the nearby lamp, a cruel sparkling laugh. Yes, it was true, I could see it now. This was never meant for me, and so I simply couldn't use it. It was making me sick.

Sick. I curled onto the floor and waited for the sensation to pass. It eventually subsided, but Denzel still didn't awaken. The gash on his head was healed, and his breathing was finally normal, so at the very least I knew he wouldn't die or sustain any further damage. I steadied myself against the window as I stood.

No, there was nothing else I could do for him. He'd need to sleep the rest of it off. After replacing the items in his backpack, except for the drugs because I couldn't fathom letting him stay on them if I could help it, I talked myself out of the possibility that Denzel was involved with Yuffie or the WRO. He was indeed looking for me, or so he said, but I couldn't trust that it hadn't just been part of his hallucinations.

No matter what, one thing was certain — he couldn't stay in Junon, not even for the slightest bit of time. The matter with Wutai was volatile and I was in a dangerous position, now even moreso. I had to protect Denzel from it. Taking him home to Edge was the only option. I'd wait for him to detox, make sure he was taken care of, then I'd bring him back. His reasons for seeking me out would have to remain irrelevant. For now.

I told myself these things as I tried to fall asleep. Lying in my bedroom, half-listening in case Denzel woke up in the next room over, I told myself things had to be this way. To keep him safe, he had to go. A piece of me did want to reconcile with him, of course, to at least talk about what had happened since he'd walked out on me, but the complications that arose from a myriad of variables in play if I did allow him to stay any longer than absolutely necessary were too risky. I was about to take another mako pill, then I couldn't remember how many I'd taken in recent hours, so I elected to simply lay in bed until everything became dark and I eventually fell asleep.

That night the corpse was in my dreams again. You, specifically. You stood right behind me. I could feel you, there in that persistent world. You were so close. The same scent of decay and salt water filled the air, but when I turned around, you were gone. Of course. And on the floor behind me was nothing but wet footprints. A trail of them, leading right up to me, and an imprint on my shirt near my shoulders. As if you'd had your arms around me.


End file.
